Let There Be Light Once More
by The-Good-In-Goodbye
Summary: Renee's death leaves Bella struggling to cope with her grief, living in a new city and connecting with her father. Can the friendship that ensues with a reserved boy help her smile once more? And what happens when the past comes back to haunt her?
1. My Father's Grief

**A Daughter's Reflections: My Father's Grief**

On the porch I met my father crying. It scared me. To wake from one's uneasy slumber to the sounds of a man's weeping was something beyond what physical pain could endure.

I had never seen him cry before and now, standing helplessly in the doorway, watching the agonizing cries of my father, crumpled and broken – I cursed myself for wishing him to cry when the news had come.

I had wished for such a thing when he whisked me away from the house where forbidden, sweet memories resonated around the walls of empty rooms. The car ride, silent. His face, blank, emptier than the darkest void in space; his emotions and actions so kept and controlled. It had hurt me even more to see his lack of affliction. I thought him a cold, callous man then.

But I understood him now.

He was a proud man and he let that pride consume him and suppress the unearthly sorrow he felt – all for the sake of keeping face in front of me. He wanted to be strong for me but he also wanted no weakness to escape from his contained form. Little did he know that it was that pride that I saw as his weakness.

However, only time could be the enemy of such pride, hacking away at his senses and control. Piece by piece, the chains in his armour were tainted and distorted, until now; now, when the chains could no longer fight such pressure, it cascaded, shattering his defenses, leaving the naked heart of an alone lover to weep.

All that time he was crying for her – I could see that now.

And yet, after all this time, weeks and weeks, did it finally sink in that she was gone? That she was lost to a world impenetrable by us, living souls? After years and years wasted away in bickering and separation, did he still love her? Were those weeks and weeks merely the too-late realization that those years spent angry, proud and bitter were the last?

There he sat, crumpled; heaving shoulders, infrequent breaths; the cries of a man sobbing profusely,

'Please, please,' his hoarse voice pleaded repeatedly. 'Come back to me.'

He grabbed the stairwell, heaved himself to his feet, wobbling slightly, and shouted into the aurora,

'Please!' he cried. 'Come back! Come back to me!'

There was no reply for there was none to do so.

Strength seeped from his veins and he sagged back to his knees, head in his hands.

'Come back,' he whispered.

'Come back,' he pleaded.

In the fresh rawness of dawn, when birds broke into song and started calling for one's mate, there sat a love, crumpled, broken and alone, crying out for his mate who could and would never return his call for happiness.


	2. Keyword being 'was'

_**I replaced the second chapter because I just went through it and realized that there were a lot of mistakes and I hate it when reading stories and there's just terrible, simple mistakes so I didn't want to be a hypocrite. Thanks go out to my very first reader CamellaBones2747 as well as those (EdWarded, Zoella De Vil and bent05) that reviewed overnight and made my heart soar and love the day when I started off my day to your wonderful comments. There is no greater feeling then knowing that someone else has enjoyed your work and that you made them laugh, so thanks. Take care and tally ho!**_

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"Dad, honestly, you don't need to come in. I'll be fine," I begged.

"Bella, it's your first day at your new school. I'm coming in with you," he said decidedly.

"Please Dad, for the last time – I'm not a kid anymore. I can ask for help and the office is straight through the doors. You're just going to walk in only to come straight back out for no reason okay?" I reasoned, hoping he'd just accept my wish for him to just go to work already. We had been sitting in the car for a couple of minutes having this discussion whilst the school body moved past us and walked along the pavement. Whilst the reaction of some scruffy boys freezing and running in the other direction at the sight of my dad's car was thoroughly amusing, I was getting sick of the curious looks I got. After all, it's not everyday you get to see a student getting dropped off to school in a police car.

"I want to do this by myself, okay?" I pleaded. I saw the defeat in his face and I nodded appreciatively. "Thank you. Now, I will see you back at home when you get home, so have a good day at work." I reached over and gave a him a quick peck on the cheek before gathering my bag and sliding out the door.

As I started walking towards the main building, I heard my dad call, "Bella. Hold up." I turned around and bent by the window that was down. "Look, just... give us a call, any time, if... you know... if you want me to come and get you or anything, 'kay? Just one phone call and I'll be here in a flash," he promised.

"Sure thing Dad but I'm sure they'll all be nice boys and girls to the new girl from Capital City," I half-joked, trying to cover up the guilt I was feeling from my dad's promise. It wasn't easy for him to suddenly have your mother-less daughter of fifteen suddenly thrown into your house and life without a clue of what to do. But maybe if I was grieving it would've been easier to handle. But I was being resilient and repressive – something he had even more difficulty understanding.

_Like he could talk though. I wasn't the one crying after trying to repress it all!_

I flinched at the harshness of my thoughts and the memory of that moment. I tried not to dwell on it too much.

"Alright... well, good luck. My big baby girl all--"

"Oh Dad, please don't," I smiled, he laughed. Well, a laugh considering what we'd both been going through. "Bye."

I pushed through the doors and the lady behind the desk looked up at me. She gestured me to take a seat whilst she talked into the phone.

I turned to look around at my surroundings.

_Best get a feel for your new school Bells._

I looked up at the several plaques hanging around the room. All of them were a never ending list of people who received some extensive academic awards. Then there was the glistening trophy cabinet across the hallway encasing an array of bright, shiny trophies of all shapes and sizes.

_Yep. Just your other typical high school._

"Now, what can I do for you young lady?"

I turned around and headed towards the lady at the desk who was waiting patiently for me.

"Hi. I'm new here and I'm guessing that I am suppose to come here," I explained my predicament.

The lady nodded her head understandingly and bustled through some papers on her desk. She seemed to have found what she was after, a manilla folder, and read over its contents.

"Ah yes, Isabella Swan is it?"

"Bella, yes."

"Well, Bella. I have your timetable and a map of the school grounds for you here. I'm sorry no one can personally guide you to your first class but I'm afraid it is rather a busy time. However, if ever you feel like you're getting lost then feel free to ask anyone, student or teacher, although you look like a smart girl so I'm sure you'll do just fine," she smiled.

I smiled back. My practice smile, that is. I forgot what a genuine smile felt like.

She placed two papers on the desk, one with my timetable and the other a map of the school. I reached up to take them and head away down the corridor when I heard the lady's voice again.

"Oh and Bella," the lady called. I turned around. "I'm sorry for your loss," she called sympathetically.

I froze.

_How on earth did she know?_

I quickly recovered, pulled a quick fake smile and whirled around.

I hurried through the hallway, not really noticing where my feet were running to. There was just that unconscious pull to steer away from anything that resounded the truth. I thought I was doing relatively well so far this week but I was elated at the prospect of a new school where no one knew me or anything that happened.

That's hope for you.

_Hope. _I mentally snickered. _Fat load of good it does._

_Focus Bella. Where's your first class?_

Home class started in five minutes and I still had no idea where I was suppose to go.

I checked the room on my timetable and located it on the map, arriving to the class in the nick of time. The teacher was just closing the door when I rounded the corner. Experience with my last form teacher taught me that when the door is shut, it either stays shut or opens with a slip to afternoon detention.

This teacher, however, saw me running and reopened the door and allowed me through.

"You must be Isabella," he greeted.

"Bella," I corrected out of breath. I wouldn't have been surprised if he didn't catch it.

_How did it get so hot? Better get used to it Bells. Tropical north Queensland. _

"Well I'm Mr Jones and it is my pleasure to see your bright and smiling face every morning for the next two and a half years. Whether or not you reciprocate that pleasure at seeing me is another story," he smiled.

I felt the corners of my lips starting to twitch minutely in response.

"And now time to meet everyone," he ushered me to in front of the class.

The corners of my lips dropped immediately.

"Students, got a new kid for you all. Isabella meet everyone. Everyone meet Isabella," his arms gestured back and forth from me to the mass of twenty or so kids in front of us.

The mass that was just looking at me – the girls sizing me up and commenting mentally on my looks no doubt, whilst the boys... I don't want to know. I became a tad self conscious then. I probably looked terrible – no sleep, little food, no make up or anything. Just plain me, served up raw and presented to everyone like a platter stick to be stared at by twenty teenagers.

Okay, maybe a slight exaggeration.

_But then why wasn't anybody saying anything?_

Just as the silence was etching over the borderline of comfortable, the door opened. I turned to see a boy trying to creep in.

"Morning Mr Cullen. Glad you could join us. But wait, don't tell me – little Alice took forever to get ready this morning as usual?"

"You know her too well sir," he smiled at the teacher. His eyes then settled on me and he frowned as if curious.

"Hi there." His tone reassured me that he was curious.

"Hi," I responded.

I quickly studied him. Slightly taller than me, broad shoulders and I noted that he had defined muscles in his arms and chest. His hair was the most interesting however – a golden, brozen colour. Most unusual but very handsomely disarrayed messily over his head. And his eyes – gorgeous green-forget-me-not eyes that were gentle and kind.

I had to admit it to myself – he was pretty damn cute. Shame I'm not girlfriend material. Not that he would look twice at me or anything. Me – just a plain Jane.

"I was just introducing Isabella here to everyone but everyone seems to have forgotten their manners this morning. Perhaps you could show her some gentlemanly Grammar hospitality?" Mr Jones suggested.

The boy stepped forward and held out a hand.

"Hi Isabella, I'm Edward," he offered.

I stepped forward towards him and accepted his hand.

"Bella," I said as I shook it.

"No, it's not Bella. It's Edward," he said confused.

I looked at him confused also.

"Huh?"

"I'm Edward," he said slowly as if I was an idiot.

_Well Edward, two can play that game._

"Are you sure?" I asked as if I was questioning a retard.

Which I hadn't yet ruled out that I actually was.

Edward cracked a smile and looked at me appraisingly as if I just won something.

"Yes I am quite sure Bella, was it?"

I nodded, relieved that we were no longer playing retards.

"That means beautiful in Italian you know?" he commented.

"Yes I know," I replied, curious as to where this was going.

"So you're beautiful and I'm handsome – we should meet up one day," he winked.

"Oh leave her alone Edward. You've been spending too much time with Emmett. He's rubbing off on you," a girl called from the back.

"True although I doubt I've been spending more time with Emmett's tongue down my throat like you," he shot back.

"Oh you are so dead pretty boy."

I gazed at the girl quietly. She was beautiful. The top of her gorgeous blonde hair was tied back, leaving the rest to cascade over her shoulders. Then there was her face which was completely flawless.

If I thought my self esteem was down a minute ago, it had dropped to the core of the earth after looking at her.

"Uhuh," he seemed to shrug the threat off casually.

But then the girl's mouth twisted into a knowing and sinister smile which made him gulp rather loudly.

"I heard that your music got permanently deleted off your computer – I wonder how that happened?" she asked sweetly.

Edward's eyes widened, "You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh wouldn't I?"

Edward narrowed his eyes and then his body relaxed again as he walked over to a seat. "It doesn't matter whether or not you dare to, you can't. You might be able to fix cars, Rose, but computers is a whole other league for you. It's hard to break through my firewall."

"Just you wait and see _Eddie_," she snickered the last word whilst Edward flinched and shuddered.

"Don't call me—"

"Students!"

I jumped at the sudden loud voice next to me.

"Great, now that I've got your attention," his eyes narrowed as they glazed over Edward and the girl... Rose was it? "Role call. Who's not here?"

"Mike's sick this morning sir!" one of the girls called.

"Wouldn't happen to be the same flu you had last week, Jessica? Wonder how he caught it. It probably had nothing to do with any kissing or anything though, eh?" Mr Jones joked as the girls giggled and the boys snickered. Jessica just blushed.

"Alright. Get out of here kids and have a great day."

The students jumped out of their seats and fled through the door. I stepped to follow but Mr Jones called me back.

"Yes sir?" I asked.

"Just wanted to say welcome and don't worry about that bunch. Not used to new kids. Haven't had a new kid in about a year but they'll get used to you."

"Thanks sir," I replied and turned to head out the door, seeing that there was only one other student left and I did not want to be the very last kid out, when he, once more, stopped my exit.

"And, I'm sorry about your mother. It mustn't be easy, I'm sure," he said softly.

This time, I wasn't the only one to freeze at his words. The last student who was exiting the classroom halted suddenly and spun around.

It was Edward.

I saw a pained expression as he looked at Mr Jones but then probably saw him looking at me instead because I felt Edward's gaze shift to me.

My eyes flickered to his and they met with ones that seemed to be staring intently at my face. Staring from my messy hair to the bags under my eyes. Then those eyes returned back to my own and I saw how his evaluation matched the words that came out of Mr Jones' mouth.

I was speechless.

For the first time in a long time, I wasn't focusing on why I had moved or what I was doing here. I had forgotten about it and enjoyed watching the argument that took place. I actually thought that this was something that I could look forward to everyday.

But then he said those words and I knew that he knew.

And even worse, one of the students knew too.

_Great! There's one less friend. _

I half-walked, half-sprinted out the door but knowing my luck I was in such a rush that my foot ran into the frame of the door and I went flying.

I just had time to hold out my hands and close my eyes to brace for the impact when the cement hit me rather harshly.

I let out a moan of pain.

My knees and hands were shrieking in pain and my back hurt from my bag slamming down on it from the fall. I turned onto my back and slipped my arms out of my bag.

"Are you okay?" a quiet, worried voice asked from somewhere close to me.

_Too close._

I opened my eyes and Edward's face was hovering over me whilst his body was crouched next to mine.

I gasped and involuntarily jumped away, causing movement in my legs.

_Bad idea. _

My knees screamed at me and I winced.

"I'm fine," I huffed.

"I somehow don't manage to believe you," he contradicted.

_Damn him! Why couldn't he just leave me alone? Why did he have to know about my mother?_

"Oh go away," I muttered as I started gathering my strength to get up.

"Nice – are they your friend-making skills because they're so good," he said sarcastically.

I ignored his comment and rolled back over on my stomach to brace myself on my hands and sit up.

"Let me help," he said as he took my hands and pulled me into a sitting position before I could respond.

"Thanks," I muttered.

"Your welcome. Now, what have we got here." He looked at my hands, that were still in his, which were slightly grazed and dirty but were fine apart from that. "They'll be fine after a wash but might sting a little. Anything else?" He looked down at my legs and noticed frowned.

I looked down also and saw why my knees were hurting. They were both bleeding, the right one more than the left though due to the blood reaching and starting to stain my recently purchased clean white socks.

"They however are going to be a problem. The left we could just put a bandaid on but we might have to wrap the right knee up a bit because that probably hurts a lot," he commented.

"Have you finished with your examination and diagnosis yet doctor?" I asked slightly annoyed. He was just rambling to himself as if he completely forgotten that I was still there and in a small amount of pain.

He snapped out of it and a glowing smile enlightened his face in response to my words but then it quickly disappeared as he cleared his throat and said, "Ah, yes. We should probably take you down to the office and get you cleaned up."

I frowned at his sudden change of expression but then instead of accepting his hand to help me up, I reached behind me and opened my bag, retrieving a pencil case – my lifesaver.

"Don't worry. I got the first aid supplies covered right here," I waved the pencil case and unzipped it. I quickly found some tissues, dampened them with water from my water bottle and dabbed my legs. Satisfied, I resurrected a large bandaid, a small patch of soft material and a bandage.

"Need any help there?" I looked up from a work and saw Edward squatting in front of me, watching me.

"I'm good thanks. My mum was a nurse," I replied.

I mentally gasped at myself. That was the first time I had made a reference or even talked about my mum since the accident.

"Key word being 'was' right?" Edward asked nervously.

I chose not to reply to that, instead looked back down at my knees.

"Are you alright?"

"Am I alright in the context that my mother just died or am I alright as my knees are bleeding and feel like crap and I haven't even made it to first period and survived seventy minutes of chemistry?" I fired at him.

He didn't respond but just kept looking at me worriedly.

And that's the main reason why I came to a new school and also why Edward could never be my friend – that worried look, the look of worry-about-her-and-guard-her-because-any-minute-she's-going-to-break-apart-and-shatter-into-pieces, that was constantly there. I was sick of people's pity. It just brought back the reality.

"Are you alright?" he repeated.

"I'm fine," I insisted and continued with my work.

He was still squatting there, making no move to leave. The silence between us was uncomfortable so I spoke.

"So how do you know so much about injuries then eh?"

"My dad was a doctor," he replied softly.

My head shot up and my eyes met his.

"Key word being 'was'?" I whispered softly, repeating his words except they came out as a question for I was wishing that I had heard wrong.

Losing one's parent is something beyond pain and grief and I would not wish it upon my worst enemy.

But he confirmed my fear by nodding shortly.

I felt my own features compose into the look that I hated so much in seeing upon the faces of everyone, so I quickly dropped my head back down to finish attending to my legs. I had already put the bandaid on my left but was trying to both hold the square piece of material to my knee as well as banadge it, and failing quite miserably.

Edward obviously saw this for the next moment, a hand clasped around my ankle and slowly moved it down so that my leg straightened out more.

"It's going to hurt walking around if your knee is strapped in a ninety degree angle when your leg is straight when you walk," he explained.

"Oh," was all I could reply.

He scooted closer and took the bandage out of my hands.

"Hold the padding," he instructed.

I did so and he wrapped the bandage around my knee, taping it to hold it in place when he had finished. He looked up at me then.

"I know it's not something to get used to and something that it's hard not to dwell on every second of your existence, but, it'll get better in time. It won't seem as raw, I suppose, as you get used to the idea that they're not coming back through those doors and that you're all by yourself. And sometimes it feels like that, but, there are actually people there Bella. They're there for you and there for you if ever you want a minute to catch up with the word, they'll understand."

"How did you do that?" I asked.

"Do what?" he frowned.

"Know exactly what I was thinking," I corrected.

"I didn't. Just, from personal experience I guess. Hearing it from someone who actually knows what you're going through makes you actually listen and hear them... which is quite something actually," he reflected. He looked back into my eyes after a moment of losing himself into his reflections no doubt. "I know this isn't the nicest thing coming from a guy, and I don't mean it in a bad way at all, but rather just I know what you're going through and I completely understand--" he rambled.

I was so lost.

"Sorry but what are you going on about?"

He sighed and nervously continued with what he was going to say.

"It might be less obvious if, well, you got a few more hours of sleep and maybe... brushed your hair."

Unconsciously, my hand shot up to my hair and felt the knots and tangles in it, probably looking very messily too.

I sighed and pulled it out, running my fingers through it as if to comb it and retied it.

"Better?" I asked.

"Much," he nodded.

"Like you can talk though, look at yours," I gestured to his crazy mop of hair.

"Hey." His hand shot protectively over his hair. "It's the fashion."

I snickered at that. He noticed and at first seemed offended but then frustrated, mumbling something about, "spending too much time on Alice's shopping trips". He dropped his hands to his knees but then something caught is attention.

He looked down and quietly cursed then heaved himself up.

"Crap, I am so sorry but we are so late." He held out his hands and I grabbed both as he heaved me up and continued to hold my hands until I settled on my feet.

"Thank you Edward," I said sincerely. "For everything," I added.

He nodded and smiled.

"You going to be okay now? Think you could hop to class?" he joked.

"I think I'm going to have to. You wouldn't happen to know where E Block is by any chance?" I asked, remembering which block Chemistry, my first class, was in.

"Just a few hops down those stairs and hop right and it's that building," he joked while pointing to the stairwell at the end of the corridor.

"Thanks," I smiled.

We just stood there though, not talking and desperately needing to go to class undoubtedly, but neither of us moving.

"Well I'll guess I'll see you around then Bella," he said after a few moments.

"Yeah. I'll see you around."

Maybe I was a bit disheartened to say goodbye to him so quickly, even though I had only just met him.

He made to leave but I quickly called, "Can you do me a favour Edward?"

"Depends what it is Bella," he responded cautiously.

"Could you... could you not tell anyone my mum?" I pleaded, ready to get on my sore knees if he didn't. Better my pain than their looks of pity.

He seemed to understand because he took a step back towards me and sighed.

"You can't runaway from them Bella. As much as you'd love to, as much as I'd love to; there is always going to be someone in the know. There is always going to be someone who follows you, who apologizes to you – always someone there to remind you as if you could forget," he scoffed. "But, you have to live with it and you have to move on and soon they won't hover around you anymore," he added, smiling softly. His voice was gentle, reassuring almost.

I nodded softly.

"And I tell you what. I won't tell your little secret if you keep my own, okay?" he offered.

I practically glowed in relief, or at least would've if my emotional state wasn't completely numb to feeling.

"Promise?" I asked. I held out my hand, all fingers except my pinky curled inwards so that my pinky was the only one sticking out.

"I promise, but come on – pinky promises? That's so childish. This is the way you do it." He spat on his right palm and held it out.

"Ewww. How exactly is that any less childish than a pinky promise?" I asked revolted.

"It's either this way or no deal and soon everyone will know your little secret. Nothing like new kid gossip," he teased.

"Oh yes, completely scandalous," I rolled my eyes.

But his hand wouldn't budge. He raised his eyebrows and gestured to his hand once more.

"Fine," I sighed. Not believing that I was actually about to do what I think I was going to do, I spat on my hand and shook hands.

Then, of course, I quickly removed my hand and poured the contents of my water bottle over it, removing all trace of spit from it.

Edward laughed at my reaction and then stepped back and waved.

"Bye," he called.

"Bye."

I watched as he practically ran down the corridor, turning around once and waving to me, and around the corner.

_Right. Now. _

_Hop. _

_Hop. _

_Hop. _

_Man, I probably look like some retard. _


	3. Making New Friends

_**Hey everyone! I'll make this quick - sorry I haven't uploaded in ages! I've had heaps and heaps of exams but never fear! My last three are this week and then I'm on holidays which I plan on spending on either working my behind off at work and dedicating my other time to this. Please take your time and review - you have no idea how happy it makes me feel!  
Enjoy it! Take care and tally ho!**_

_*******_

"So why do people elect a government?" Mr Kenneth asked the class.

Although I decided that he was my favourite teacher out of the other three I'd had today, I really wished that he would give it a rest for the moment. I hadn't eaten during lunch, except for a quick muesli bar on the run, because the English teacher kept me in, intending on asking about me but someone she was able to mention the life story of herself, her dog and her son. It was a long lunch. And now, last lesson of the day with only about ten or so minutes left and I couldn't wait. After a quick meeting with the sport department after school, my first day at Townsville Grammar School would officially be over.

"No one? Come on people, tell me. Why do people go out to the polling booths every four years?" Mr Kenneth asked frustratingly.

"Because they have to."

The entire class laughed.

"Well, yes, but why else?"

"To get the government that they want into power?" a girl replied nervously.

"Yes, but why that government? What's that government got to do with them?"

"They make the society that the person wants," she answered.

"Yes! The government shapes and makes the perfect society in the eyes of that person."

"Like Utopia?"

"Utopia," I snickered.

"Miss Swan, perhaps you would like to share your opinion with us?"

"Well, I just think that the quest for Utopia is in vain."

"And why do you think that? A perfect society where everyone is equal, where everything is in harmony and there is justice – isn't that a society to strive for?" Mr Kenneth inclined his head in my direction in a curious gesture.

"Something to strive for, maybe. But it doesn't exist. The definition of perfect is biased for every person. Your ideology of the perfect society is no doubt different to mine and that's why there are so many different types of governments and ideologies of what society should be, even though, personally, capitalism isn't a society but rather an economy.

"And anyway," I continued after taking a deep breathe, "whilst the concepts of a Utopian society is something that one can try to ascertain, it's just like communism – idealistic on pen and paper but in the real world where there is terror, human emotions and injustice, it is illogical and irrational," I stated simply.

"Sometimes it can't hurt to try though Bella," a smooth voice countered.

I whirled around and found the source of the voice. It was Edward, sitting a row directly behind me.

Yes. Edward was in my Political class. He was just sitting a seat behind me, completely oblivious to this morning's happenings and it was if none of it ever occurred.

I was elated for that.

But I was also annoyed that he had ignored me. Not even a smile or nod of recognition. Just walked on, straight past me and looking in the other direction when we came in to class. Like I said – it was as if none of it ever occurred.

"When it's an entire nation that you are pulling in the wrong direction than I would think that it does hurt," I argued, maybe a little harsher than what I wanted it to come out due to my annoyance with him.

"But they're not getting pulled in the wrong way – they're striving for something that is very much the opposite of the wrong way. They're striving for equality and justice."

"Maybe not the wrong way but they may as well be getting pulled in the wrong way because instead they are squeezed through loopholes and situations would be thrust upon them that would lead the citizens into standards of living that they have never encountered before and they wouldn't know how to handle it. There would be severe and back-twisting obstacles, so to speak, that would weary out the citizens and they would leave the country and due to lack of support, the whole revolution would probably just collapse with nothing to show but wearied citizens and an entire mess to clean up," I tried to explain. `

"How can you say that the pain wouldn't be worth it in the end? When you have a goal and a dream, you perspire towards it and overcome any obstacles in your path and you reach your goal and you've achieved it. As they say, the ends justify the means," Edward argued.

"I've heard that saying before but personally I don't really believe it."

"And why would that be?"

"I just don't think that pain can be compensated."

"But there's proof of it. Pick up a book and it's there. Harry Potter, the Lord of the Rings; your classics - Pride and Prejudice, Oliver Twist; all of your fairytales," he exasperated.

"I hardly think that Charles Dickens wanted to convey a theme that told the readers that the ends justify the means. Oliver Twist went through the very worst situations and came out in the end a happy boy with a newly reclaimed family, it is true; but Dickens knew exactly the kind of life that he was describing and putting his characters through – he'd been there himself. He had worked in the workhouses at a young age to try and support his family and get his father out of debt.

"But as an author, he was objective as consequence of breathing life into three dimensional figures that he had been watching develop and employed his time constructing and imagining. As an author, it could be fair to say that he became like a father to them and it would be only fair to put them to rest where they receive their dues. If not, then I do not think that Dickens would have slept well at all.

"As for Pride and Prejudice, that was just all twisted up with Elizabeth and Darcy's pride and an entire case of miscommunication. And, well, fairytales – need I say more?" I laughed.

Edward smiled minutely but then frowned at me.

"You don't believe that people will get their justice for their sins and deeds?" he asked.

"Depends on what is your definition of justice? Some countries have capital punishment and some don't. The countries that do have it are reprimanded for it because it goes against the UDHR where it is declared inhumane to take someone's life away and serves nothing but injustice. But then you have to consider the number of human lives that were lost or could have been lost for their crimes. One life to try and compensate for all those lost."

"'_An eye for an eye only makes the whole world blind_'," Edward quoted sourly.

I sighed.

"I agree with you there. But, just let me try and get you to understand my view here. A few weeks ago, the three convicted bombers of the 2002 Bali bombings were killed by firing squad. Whilst there was outcry and protests as well as having Amnesty International and governments declaring the executions inhumane, imagine it from rather the point of view of the family of those lost. Imagine watching the news every night and often having to watch reports of those that are responsible for the death of a mother or a son, or even the loss of an arm or leg; and then watching that only of those men, that ruddy sickly bastard, always smiling contentedly and wish for their death. If those men didn't get executed, then how could those families live, knowing that somewhere out there is the murderer of your loved one; knowing that they are still alive and breathing yet your loved one is dead – how could you live with that?"

Edward leaned back in his chair. He seemed deliberating.

I looked around and noticed that the entire class had turned silent and watched our little debate.

"I can see your point there and I accept that view. I am torn between sides now," he admitted, frowning.

"Wow. I think, Miss Swan, you have just done the impossible," Mr Kenneth announced in awe.

"What?" I asked confused.

"You have just swayed Mr Edward Cullen from his views and he is now sitting on the fence. A remarkable day indeed," Mr Kenneth laughed. "You'd better watch out Edward, I think you've met your match."

"We'll see sir," Edward replied but was looking at me, smiling. "We'll see."

I returned the smile and turned around to face the front.

"Okay, umm, where were we?" the teacher walked over to his desk and picked up a piece of paper. As soon as he seemed to start talking, the bell rung. The teacher sighed. "Why is it that my lessons never quite turn out like I planned?" he exasperated.

The students chuckled at the teacher's frustration and packed up their belongings. I followed suit but went up to the front of the class to the teacher.

"I'm sorry, sir, for disrupting your class," I apologised.

"Don't be Bella. Indeed, class discussions are encouraged. It's just more than often we get carried away, but at least it's never boring. And I dare say that it's going to get a bit more interesting with you," he smiled. "You will do great things Bella."

I laughed.

"Gee no pressure then."

"Welcome to Townsville."

"Thanks sir. See you later."

I made my way slowly out of the classroom and around the corner. I was quite proud that I had managed to have survived the whole day without hurting my knees any further. In fact, I had gotten use to walking somewhat handicapped such that, whilst looking a tad demented, I could walk with some dignity.

That was, of course, until I turned the corner and ran into a solid figure.

I didn't see them until the last possible moment. Since I couldn't stop my momentum, I tried to deviate around the person but I was too close and clipped them on the shoulder while my foot drove into the figure's and I plunged downwards.

I braced for the impact, cursing my luck whilst closing my eyes and holding my hands out.

The impact didn't come; rather two strong arms encircled my waist and held me up. I gasped in shock and stayed like that, suspended mid-flight, until I felt myself pulled vertically.

I shook a little bit on my feet but the hands remained around my waist to support me. And even when I found that my knees could support me again, the arms stayed there.

I looked up to my saviour of my knees and found myself staring into all too familiar dazzling green orbs.

I looked down at his hands again then back up at his face. Edward's face flickered with embarrassment and guilt as I felt the hands quickly, yet hesitantly, free my waist.

He cleared his throat.

"Do you have a habit of falling over?" His eyes were wickedly amused.

"Oh shut it! I was merely distracted. Being in a new place, meeting new people and a whole new routine is quite overwhelming, I'll have you know," I said defensively. _Besides, who just stands around a corner – anyone could come charging towards them!_

"Uhuh," he shrugged. "Whatever you say Bella. But I've met two year olds who walk more gracefully than you."

My eyes narrowed and my jaw tightened. At my side, I could feel my fist clenched.

I frowned, internally, at myself. I was normally a non-violent person.

_And I will not allow him to get to me. _

I did my equivalent of storming away from him, which probably made the opposite effect of what I wanted, for I felt Edward's voice and hand around my wrist stopping me from going any further.

"Wait! I'm sorry," he apologised. "Not that it isn't true," he muttered to himself, smirking.

I glared at him.

"Do you mind? I think you've insulted me enough."

"Right. I'm trying to apologise here aren't I?" he muttered to himself again. He looked up at me. "It's not really working is it?"

"No, it really isn't."

"Okay. I am sorry and in future, will keep such observations to myself," he said slowly and sincerely.

"Oh gee thanks. How considerate of you," I cried sarcastically.

He flinched.

"Sorry, sorry. I don't know. I'm not normally like this, believe me," he pleaded.

"Like what?" I frowned, confused as to what we were talking about now.

"Rude. I can normally keep my mouth shut." He scratched the back of his head.

"So you don't normally insult people about their obvious lack of co-ordination as well as ignore them like you've never seen them before when they're new to the school and in your same class?" I asked hotly.

"I'm sorry about that. I – I didn't mean to ignore... actually, no that would be a lie. But I didn't mean to offend you or anything, believe me."

"So you admit that you did ignore me?" I asked pained.

"Yes," he sighed.

"Why?"

His eyes flickered down to the ground and when they met mine again, they were pained and remorseful.

"Seeing you brought back some memories that I've been thinking about all day. I... I was scared, I guess, that it was probably not long ago that I looked like you. I don't mean to be insulting but I recognize that exact same look that I saw on my face every time I looked in the mirror. I see the false smile, the lack of sleep, lack of energy; the lack of life. It frightened me, and I'm sorry but I didn't want to see you because I didn't want to be reminded of it." His frown deepened and his face contorted in pain. "You have no idea how hard I worked to get over it. I just thought that seeing you again would bring all of that back and I am just too busy with school and everything to have another emotional crisis.

"So I ignored you back then in class. But not once did I think about what happened, even though I was staring right in your face, arguing mind you. And Mr Kenneth wasn't lying when he said that I don't waver from my opinion. I am stubborn. What you did made me realize that maybe we could make could be friends. You're smart and witty and funny and I think I would be an idiot if I held my own problems against you and a possible friendship," he shrugged. He continued more softly, "I can help you also, maybe."

I didn't know what to say after that.

I was surprised by both his honesty and his confession.

"I understand... I think. Thank you."

He frowned at me.

"For not giving up on me, I guess. I think I need a friend, or would at very least like one," I smiled.

He smiled in return.

"Wow. I really am not like this either," he said surprised.

"I'm lost again," I admitted, confused at the sudden conversation change.

"I'm not really this open and honest with strangers. Wow. You seem to be bringing out the best and worst things in me Bella," he frowned. "I wonder why that is."

My breath stopped in my throat as his eyes gazed intently in my own. It felt like he was staring right through me, piercing my soul.

_'Piercing my soul'? Can you hear yourself girl? You just met the guy!_

I didn't know how I was able to but somehow I managed to conjure up an able amount of self-will – oh how I wanted to stay lost in those eyes – and pull myself out of the trance. I pulled away and looked up at his face again, moments later, to find his face blank.

I needed to lighten the atmosphere.

"Sorry?" I tried.

He laughed and shook his head.

"I'll catch you tomorrow Bella," he called over his shoulder as he walked down the corridor.

_Now, if I could get my heart pumping again then I need to find where the gym is. _

*****

"Hah! Yeah, see how you like that eh?"

I was walking through the gym, after receiving a brochure about extra-curricular activities available at the school, when I heard someone growling some threats, followed by some grunts. It sounded like there was a fight.

Whilst my initial response was to run away, I thought that maybe I should just check it out, to see what exactly was happening.

I took a deep breath and timidly followed the sounds. I nervously rounded the corner, and there, in front of me, was a rather large red boxing bag getting pounded by an even larger person.

"I'm gonna getcha. Yes you. You don't stand a chance. Gonna pound you to a pulp, and then, I'm gonna-- wah!" it seemed that he finally noticed me. His eyes widened in surprise at me and then a tinge of pink flowed into his cheeks. He cleared his throat. "Um... just doing some off season training," he mumbled.

"Nah that's cool. Just heard someone threatening someone and just wanted to see if everything was okay," I laughed.

He chuckled, too.

"Well, what can I say? I get a little carried away sometimes."

"Hey, don't stop. But do you mind if I watched?" I asked.

"Umm, sure that'd be fine. Not use to having an audience, let alone a female one. I'll try to keep it PG eh?" he grinned cheekily.

I chuckled and shook my head.

I stood in the doorway and watched him for a while. It was quite contradicting watching him. Whilst it was hilarious to hear his mutterings, he obviously had skill and performed moves fervently that quite amazed me.

"Do you reckon you could show me a few stuff?" I asked after ten minutes.

I didn't know why I asked and it was something that just slipped out without me thinking about it.

I was shocked at what I asked and was hoping that he hadn't heard me.

Not a chance.

_Luck is really against me today, isn't it?_

"You wanna box?" he huffed, stopping, out of breath, in between a follow-up kick from a punch.

"Not box. Just, how to defend myself like punching and kicking and stuff."

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Bella. Bella Swan," I responded.

"Swan, eh? Wouldn't happen to be related to good ol' Chief Swan?"

I sighed. "Yes, I'm his daughter."

He laughed. "Great bloke. Me and him haven't gotten to know each other over the years."

I raised my eyebrow.

"Well, I can't happen that I get a little passionate at times and people find it intimidating when I do," he shrugged while he scratched the back of his head.

I laughed and shook my head. Again. I seemed to be doing that quite a lot around him.

"So how come the police Chief's daughter wants to learn how to defend herself? Most guys get scared off with the whole 'my dad's got a gun' thing," he laughed.

"Dad's aren't always around though, are they?"

"Umm... alright. Well, come here." I walked closer, standing next to him, locking at him expectantly. "I guess, first, I'll show you how to make a fist. Okay, now hold out your hand."

For the next hour, the boy, who I found was called Emmett, taught me a variety of punches, as well as some defense tactics. He demonstrated some kicks as well but I gave up trying to do them – my knees screamed at me when I tried. That and the fact that I fell straight on my arse every time I tried. Of course Emmett thought it was hilarious every time but he would always be the gentlemen and help me back up again.

Before I knew it, it was five thirty and the groundsman came in saying that he was locking up.

"So you said this was off season training. There's a season for boxing?" I inquired whilst we walked out of the gym.

"Oh no. I don't do boxing. That's just for training and warming up for matches. Nah, I play rugby league."

"Ergh! League. How despicable!" I groaned.

"Hey! It's awesome I'll have you know," he said defensively.

"You're kidding me. It's hideous. It's just large, burly blokes bashing into each other, repeatedly, when they're not too busy playing tiptoe around the opposition and passing the parcel," I muttered sarcastically.

"I'll have you know there is more to it than that. It takes a lot of skill and tactics," he shot back.

"Tactics," I snickered. "'Oh, hmm... how best to shove and tackle that large bloke and try not to break my neck?'"

"Oi!" he fumed. He suddenly stepped in front me on the pavement, blocking any further movement.

"Now, AFL however – that takes a lot of skill and tactics."

It was his turn to snicker. "GAY-FL."

"Oi!"

"Touchy are we?" he chuckled.

"Yes! AFL is a very skillful and enjoyable sport which, unlike league, focuses on actual tactics and athleticism rather than bashing the crap out of the opposition," I defended.

"It just looks like a whole bunch of men passing the soap," he commented.

"And how, exactly, is that any different to league?" I asked sweetly.

"Okay, good point. Let's call it a truce for now then eh?" He held out his hand and I reached to take it. His massive hand encompassed mine. "Woah, your hands are puny Bells," he chuckled.

"Gee thanks," I muttered.

Emmett stepped back alongside me as we walked along the pavement to the end of the street.

"Well I'm turning left here Bells," he announced when we reached the end.

"And I'm veering right so I guess I'll see you around," I smiled.

"You betcha. You've got a mean punch there happening and I wouldn't mind staying on your good side," he admitted. I blushed.

"We'll see shall we?"

"See you."

"Bye."

I turned right, smiling to myself. I was imagining all of the best things in the world that would be awaiting me through my front door. A nice banana smoothie, a hot, relaxing bubble bath and I could whip up some spaghetti bolognaise.

I didn't know which part of my body was celebrating more – my stomach or my knees.

I sighed heartily and would've ran home if not the problematic situations that usually happen when I performed such activities.


End file.
